


MidoTaka Drabbles

by merthur_at_221b



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Genderbend, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merthur_at_221b/pseuds/merthur_at_221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of MidoTaka drabbles. Ranging from rot-your-teeth cute fluff to soul-crushing angst. No explicit material, but there are obvious sexual themes. Not related. Most take place in university, some after but some in high school. It should be fairly obvious how old they are at the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	MidoTaka Drabbles

“Are you kidding me?” Midorima asked, looking exasperated. He was at the entrance of his room, right outside of it. Rather than in it, which he would have liked to be. The thing impeding him? Takao. With a barricade.  
Of pillows.  
“You shall not pass!” Takao yelled, throwing a balled up pair of socks at him.  
Midorima just sighed. Getting him hooked on english dramas was backfiring in new ways.  
But he could turn this situation around rather quickly..  
“If I’m not allowed in, we can’t have sex.”  
The pillows were knocked down before he could even turn about face.  
\---  
“You know,” Midorima began. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. The two basketball players were lounging around in their bed, enjoying the cold weather. Well, enjoying the excuse to cuddle because of the cold weather.  
(They never need an excuse to cuddle.)  
“I was a virgin before I met you. You were my first.  
Takao just nuzzled in closer, burrowing his head in the meganes chest.  
“So I was the first to make you orgasm? I’m flattered,” He said softly, lazily running his fingers up his lovers chest. When he chuckled, Takao could feel it through his ribcage.  
“That’s a sweet way of saying you stole my purity,”  
Now it was Takao’s turn to laugh. “You might have been virgin, but you were far from pure, Shin-chan. Don’t try to fool me.”  
\---  
Midorima liked to watch Takao read.  
He didn’t do it often. Not that he wasn’t studious or illiterate, no. His grades were nearly as good as his own, not that he would ever admit it.  
But when Takao got into what he was reading, his face was truly expressive. He let everything show–his sadness and anger, fear. His joy, happiness, all of it.  
It made him a little sad that Takao wasn’t always like that, but Midorima didn’t expect him to be.  
Some walls were necessary. Midorima even had some of his own.  
But when they had to, wanted to, they both laid down their barriers and laid it all bare.  
Whether they had to fuck it out of each other, or just have a good conversation, they did have moments of complete honesty.  
But Midorima had to get more books if he wants to keep watching Takao like this.  
\---  
“Isn’t she just the cutest thing? Oh, Shin-chan, please?” Takao begged, pulling on the taller ones arm. They were in a pet store (at the point guards request, of course. Not because Midorima absolutely adored bunnies or anything. Nope.)  
“The landlord said no pets, Takao. You know that you were just a special exception,” Midorima said, refusing to look at the cat Takao was gesturing to.  
“Then we’ll take her to my place,” Takao compromised, glossing over the jibe. “Just look at her.”  
Midorima cracked. He looked at the cat.  
Oh.  
It was tiny, and could probably fit into even Takao’s tiny palm. It had little folded over ears, and a tiny mouth and little squinty eyes. The eyes were a poisonous yellow  
But it also had two streaks over the top of its head. One green, one black.  
Trying to resist the sweet sentiment, he tried once more. “We can’t take her to your place, Takao. Your place is my place.”  
“So does that mean we can have her?”  
Sigh.  
“What are we going to name her?”  
“Precious.”  
\---  
“Hello, Shintarou. How are you doing today?” Takao asked, entering the room. When it closed behind him, it made a very soft ‘thud.’  
“Takao, what are you doing? We need to get to practice! It’s almost time for the Winter Cup! The Generation of Miracles are all getting prepared, why am I stuck in this room? And don’t call me by my full first name, dumbass. It’s Shin-chan to you.” Midorima exclaimed, springing up from his position curled up against the corner.  
“Sorry, Shin-chan. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes, after you eat your breakfast,” Takao said, smoothly setting the tray he had previously been carrying down on the table. Shintarou proceeded to wolf down the meal placed before him.  
Some days, Takao didn’t think that the analysis of Midorima Shintarou was an accurate one. He was just a kid who loved basketball, a kid with dreams. Dreams that got way out of hand.  
Other days, Takao considered telling the people in charge of his case to up the meds they slipped into the food. The days when Shintarou was twitching in the corner, always the corner, about ‘Teiko’ and ‘Needing to prove that his basketball was better’ and ‘bringing back Akashi.’  
Shintarou started to wolf down his breakfast. As Takao took his leave, he noticed.  
“Don’t leave me, Takao! Don’t go!”  
The door closed with a soft thud.  
Poor kid. He was playing streetball a few years ago, but the game got a little rowdy. He was hit in the head with a basketball. It had so much force, he was knocked to the ground. There was a sharp rock that his head hit at just the wrong angle.  
Now, he was in a mental facility, admitted for intense hallucinations and delusions.  
\---  
“Hey. Don’t disappear on me. I need you too, you know,” A man with black hair said softly. He wrapped his right pinky finger and his husbands untaped left one.  
“I’m sorry. I just,” he trailed off, then sharply inhaled.  
Everything was numb. It was still numb, all these years later, still numb.  
Except for the sadness and anger. No, those had no trouble sleeping in the cracks. It was the happiness, the good things that had trouble making a home inside his now frozen heart.  
“I still love you, my sweetheart. We’ll always love you, and keep you with us,” The raven haired one said, speaking for both of them. The one with the emerald hair was currently doing a poor job of holding back tears.  
They both set down two bouquets of flowers on the stone slab in front of them.  
Even in the pouring rain, you could still discern the text on the gravestone.  
‘’Midorima-Takao Nanase. Age 8. Loved Daughter.’  
\---

“I don’t think we should keep on doing this.”  
These words echoed through Takao’s head. He couldn’t really see straight. Did Shin-chan always wear two pairs of glasses at once?  
It wasn’t like he wasn’t expecting this. Their relationship had been rocky for weeks. Constantly getting into big fights over small things, spending less time together. Takao started to take more of his things home from Midorima’s house.  
But despite all their struggles, Takao still felt a painfully strong love for the messy and complicated boy in front of him.  
Who apparently didn’t feel the same way.  
“Just don’t let this affect the rest of the team. This doesn’t come on to the court with us,” He heard himself say, as from an outsiders perspective.  
His voice was flat, detached. He had to be detached, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together. It was a single thread that could snap at any moment, and Takao would be sobbing on the floor, begging his Shin-chan not to discard him like a piece of trash stuck to the bottom of his shoe.  
“I’ve never let it before,” Midorima said, adjusting his glasses.  
Takao flinched. Oh, that was a low blow.  
“I’ll get my stuff while your at your afternoon class on Wednesday. I’ll lock up and leave the key under the doormat.”  
Was that him who said that? Him who was letting himself be thrown away? Giving Shin-chan up?  
Midorima nodded. He turned to leave, but Takao grabbed his sleeve.  
But Midorima was already too far away to be reached.  
In a last-ditch attempt, Takao called out a desperate, “Do you still love me, Midorima?”  
Already using last names again. Hopefully that would sting some sense into him.  
The boy turned to face his ex.  
“Of course, Takao.”  
But before the boy could leave again, the raven haired one asked one last question.  
“Then why are you doing this to me?”  
A beat of silence.  
“I wanted to know if I was worth fighting for.”  
\---  
“That was weak,” Someone shouted to the the speaker. Or did he imagine it? Midorima couldn’t really hear right. Basically all of his senses were being decreased. Except his sight, of course. But all he could see was Takao, however. Nothing wrong with that.  
“FIne by me. Shin-chan?” He asked, his voice as silky as usual. But Midorima knew better, and could see the uncertainty and nervousness behind those silver eyes.  
But Midorima tried to play cool. “Will it count for my turn as well?”  
He was met with laughs. But a few voices called out things like “Sure, why not?” “Anything to get you two together,” and one “If that’s what it takes.”  
So Midorima turned towards his point guard, trying to pretend like the thing he had been anticipating for months was finally coming true, right before his eyes.  
“Just a kiss, right?” Takao said, before closing the already small space between their lips.  
He tasted like fruit punch and sugar, just like he should.  
It was sweet and short though, and once they separated, the two freshmans in the circle had huge blushes.  
But a few turns later, Midorima had to answer a truth question.  
“How much did you like kissing Takao?”  
…  
“A lot more than I probably should have.”  
He was met with whooping applause and turned a violent red.  
Takao decided red was a good color on Midorima.  
\---  
“Shin-chan, you’re drunk,” Takao giggled. He and his boyfriend were sitting at their kitchen table, downing shot after shot of tequila.  
“Am...not, you jerkface,” Midorima replied slowly, trying not to slur his words. He was leaning precariously close to the edge of his chair. At least it was close to the ground this time.  
“Jerkface? Really?” Takao said, rolling the word around on his tongue. It had a funny feel to it. Jeeeeeeeeeeeeerkface. Ha.  
“Shut it, jerkface. An alcohol addled brain is not one that can make up good insults.” Midorima spoke really slowly, taking a few minutes just to get it out. He must have used a lot of effort to even remember the fact that the word ‘addled’ was in his vocabulary.  
“But did you heaaaar, Shin-chan? Aomine and Kise are finally together.” Takao changed the subject rather abruptly.  
(Not that there was a topic, but still.)  
“Hah. Aomine. Aaaaaaa-oooooooh-meeeeeeeeeeeeee-neeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyy. Your friends have weird names,” Takao said, laughing.  
“R..really? Took them long enough. You know who should be getting together? Us,” Midorima flirtedd. At the last part, he tried to get closer to Takao. But given his already precarious situation, he just fell to the ground with a thump.  
“Nooooo, I made a mistake!” He yelled, his voice getting strangely high at the end.  
“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin-chan. The only reason I got you drunk was so we can skip all the foreplay you’re so insistent on. Buuuuuuuuuuut I think I can settle for cuddling on our floor,” Takao purred, getting off his chair. Before he could take his place next to his boyfriend, Midorima whined, “The lights! They hurt my eyes!”  
With a laugh, Takao turned off the lights. On his way back to Midorima, he tripped on something and fell into the other’s arms.  
But he still let out a loud, “FUCK!” out of surprise.  
Midorima chastised in a serious voice, “No. We’re doing that tomorrow.”  
\---  
“Oi, Shin-chan. What’s the big deal?” Takao asked his best friend. They were sitting next to each other on a plane, about to fly to America for a conference. They were still in the lot, not in the air yet. Instead of looking calm and excited, like one would expect, Midorima looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack.  
“I thought I would be over it by now, but apparently not,” Midorima answered, but it seemed as if he was talking more to himself than anyone else.  
With a sigh, Takao decided to accept it. He just put his arm on the rest, next to Midorima’s arm.  
“Please, buckle your seatbelts. We will be taking off in a few seconds.”  
Midorima started to bounce his right leg up and down. What was with him? He didn’t get nervous, and didn’t have any nervous ticks.  
“Shin-chan. What is going on with you?” Takao asked, nudging the other’s arm.  
Midorima seemed to notice he was there for the first time.  
“Don’t mention it?” He questioned. While most would have been confused, Takao knew “Shin-chan-speak’ by now, was practically fluent in it.  
For a brief second, he wondered if he could count that as a foreign language credit.  
Takao rolled his eyes. “Do I ever?”  
Midorima looked more relaxed now, but still way tenser than usual.  
“When I was a kid, I had an irrational fear of heights. It seems to not have gone away by now,” Midorima said, hanging his head slightly.  
Takao almost laughed. The great Midorima Shintarou was afraid of heights? Wasn’t invincible?  
But he knew it was a sensitive thing for Midorima by the way he held himself, so he decided to just reply with, “Just try to sleep through most of it. That’ll help, right?”  
Midorima nodded.  
But once the plane started to ascend, Midorima nearly sprang out of his chair. Instead, he grabbed on to the thing closest to him.  
Takao’s hand.  
“Don’t mention it, and I’m sorry if I bruise your hand,” Midorima said through clenched teeth. His eyes were closed, and his other hand was shaking slightly.  
But the grip on his hand was like a vise. It wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, Shin-chan’s hand felt wonderful in his own. Warm and soft and fit in all the right crevices.  
“Just sleep,” He said with a laughing lilt to his voice.  
\---  
“No.” Midorima’s force was firm and unwavering. Takao just pouted.  
“Aw, Shin-chan, you know you want to~,” He said, his voice going up towards the end of it.  
With some exasperation, Midorima adjusted his glasses and his suit. They were at their school dance, at Takao’s insistence. (Not that Midorima needed it. He w=tried to put on a cool and calm facade, but Takao saw right through it. He was actually just a dork that couldn’t understand most people. Which is why Takao was an excellent translator.)  
“But they’re playing our song next!” Takao slipped out, against his will. Shit, it was supposed to be a surprise.  
His eyes snapped up at that. “Really?”  
Takao tried to play it off. Luckily, the song playing now was just about over. “Well, I mean, I think they are.”  
If you wish for it, it’s fine if we snap at each other  
Send right back the trembling blue feelings  
Don’t rush, my brightest heart, I came to experiences the joys and the sorrows with you  
I won’t smile facing your back by myself any longer  
“You planned this. You..hopeless romantic,’ Midorima smiled. He took Takao’s outstretched hand.  
“Like you aren’t.”  
With a short and sweet kiss on Takao’s lips, they danced for the rest of the song.  
Don't worry about these things, I want to try and trust (my other self!)  
If you can do it, I know already, we're winning already  
Because he is just like me

let me higher get me higher  
The heat of my body when it's fired up, the days thinking somehow  
burnin' up! We love! Believe in it  
Rock me baby show me baby, Show me even more  
With you and me (We can make it!) We can make it  
My legendary other self  
No matter what he says, he loved it. And smiled the entire time.  
\---  
“Damn, Shin-chan,” Takao said, looking at the sheets. He had just woken up a few minutes ago, but Midorima was already up, which was a surprise. The early morning and Midorima mixed like oil and vinegar. “I knew you like biting, but I didn’t think it would actually get on the sheet.”  
Unabashed, Midorima just started stripping the bed (With Takao still in it.)  
“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” Midorima defended. He get the sheet corners, and grabbed them all at once. He then picked up the bundle of sheets, Takao and pillows.  
“Where are you taking m-omph!” Takao started, before being dropped on a hard floor.  
“I need to do the laundry. You were in the way. “  
\---  
“Don’t. Touch. Him.” Takao said harshly, stepping in front of his point shooter.  
The others that were surrounding Midorima turned their attention to him.  
“Oh look, the little faggot got his faggot boyfriend to protect him. How adorable. But what’s a little freshman going to do?” The biggest of the three asked. Takao had no clue who these punks were, except they went to Shutoko and had something against Midorima. Probably his sexuality.  
The little dickhead.  
“He’s not going to do anything, but we are.”  
Takao turned around. The three third years on their team were all standing at the exit, blocking them in. They towered over the bullies.  
“Takao, get Midorima to his house or a hospital, or his house.We’ll teach these punks a lesson for picking on our ace,” Kiyoshi said, barely contained rage behind his simple words.  
Takao just nodded, knowing not to argue. As much as he wanted to pound these shits to a pulp, Midorima was his priority.  
“Can you walk?”  
A nod. Midorima got up, and started to walk towards the exit. he stumbled, but Takao was there to catch his fall, and support his weight.  
“Bastard, no need to pretend to be strong. We’re here to help you,” Takao chastised. He wanted to question him about those bullies back there, but he was ina fragile state, physical as well as mental. He was bruised and bleeding, but nothing looked broken.  
Takao dragged his sorry ass to a bench, where he could lay down Midorima.  
“Shin-chan, we’re your friends. We’re here to protect you,” Takao said, echoing his words form before with only a slight change in the wording.  
To his surprise, he heard a response from Midorima. After a cough Midorima smiled, and then spoke weakly.  
“They care about me.”  
He smiled quietly to himself, trying not to fall asleep. Takao rolled his eyes as he scrolled through Midorima’s phone for his dads phone number.  
“Of course we care.”  
\---  
“Now they’re just being plain ridiculous. How could that possibly help-” Takao started, watching the Oha Asa with MIdorima. He stopped speaking when he saw Midorima got through his collection of lucky items.  
“You’re looking for one,” He said flatly. Oh, the whims of a horoscope addict. One could never adjust to them.  
“It’s my lucky item. Of course I’m looking for a sword.”  
Takao just laughed. He was about to offer a solution, when–  
“No, I’m not going to start calling my dick a sword and hope that’ll suffice.”  
Takao huffed in irritation and rolled over. “I’ve got nothing,” he mumbled into the sheets.  
\---  
“You really are hopeless, Shin-chan. They’re just buttons,” Takao laughed. Midorima, however, did not look amused. Rather, he looked like a nervous wreck.  
“But I’m handing off Ryouta. To Daiki. DAIKI, KAZUNARI,” Midorima screeched. While he loved his former teammates, he was sure that Daiki would be an awful husband, despite Ryouta’s reassurances.  
“I doubt that Akashi was this nervous when he was handing you over to me.”  
“AKASHI TRUSTS YOU. IT’S NOT THE SAME,” Midorima yelled his voice getting progressively higher.  
Takao just laughed, and started to do up his husbands shirt buttons.  
“Just don’t make any objections at the ceremony. Ryouta already paid m-us off to let this affair go smoothly.  
\---  
“Dog tags? And you call me the hopeless romantic,” Takao said softly, even as he slipped the necklace on.  
“I thought you might like them,” Midorima said smugly.  
“Shut up,” Takao said, but it didn’t have any venom behind it. He did his lovers necklace.  
He looked at the tag on his neck  
‘Belongs to Midorima Shintarou.’  
\---  
“Takao,” Midorima scolded, looking over the edge of the rook, “I trust you.”  
They were on the roof of the school, eating lunch. They were together, but it was still new, still fragile.  
Takao was still scared of screwing up and losing Midorima forever.  
“I trust you too, Shin-chan.”  
\----  
There was always this damn unclosable distance between them whenever they made love.  
No matter how close Midorima got, he always wanted more. The only way he would ever be close enough would mean a possession.  
He would be filling Takao up, leaning over his arching back, laying featherlight kisses at the nape of his neck, and it was never close enough.  
But this was when they were the closest, their minds filled with nothing but love for their partners and their bodies wanton and needy.  
The distance was always unbearable.  
\---  
“Hey, Shin-chan! Look at me~!” Takao called, his words not clearly pronounced because of the stick in his mouth.  
He was at their dining room table while Midorima was doing some studying. Usually, Takao leaves him in peace, but he found something in one of the drawers and couldn’t resist.  
nd Shin-chan has been studying for two hours. A short break was okay, right?  
“Yes, Kazunari?” Midorima said, walking into the room. When he saw what Takao was doing, his face fell into a flat line.  
“Really? The Pocky Game?”  
\---  
Midorima decided that this was bliss.  
He was happy, Takao was happy, all their friends were happy. There wasn’t any bad undercurrents with any of the Miracles.  
All was good.  
It was a sunny day, the wind was blowing and Takao had the radio up too loud.  
They were close, way too close for the heat. He was laughing and smiling, as they rocked to the tune of the song. Midorima was doing the same right back to him.  
Midorima even felt tears well up in his eyes.  
Takao looked worried. “Shin-chan?”  
He heard himself say, as if from someone else’s perspective, “What did I do to deserve such happiness?  
Laughter.  
“You made me happy.”  
The words were clipped off by a kiss.  
If those two weren’t in love, I don’t know that it even exists.  
\---  
“Weird to be at home again, isn’t it?” Kazunari asked, leaning against his husband, hand in hand. He and Midorima are at Shutoku, standing in the large shadow it was casting. Cherry blossoms flowed through the wind. If they closed their eyes, it was high school again. They were fumbling and nervous teenagers, trying to figure out themselves and each other. They were little kids with dreams and ambitions, infinite and powerful and concentrated, manifesting power.  
“Home is where you are, Kazu.”  
A pause.  
“Really, Shin-chan?”  
\----  
Midorima couldn’t see straight. Was this really happening? Had he misheard?  
Your finger is broken, Midorima-san. In four places. If you want it to set properly, you can’t play basketball for six weeks.  
For some reason, his cheeks were getting wet. Tears? His own tears?  
“Shin-chan? Does it still hurt?” Takao’s voice was thick with restrained emotion.  
“I just want to play, Takao.”  
\---  
“No.”  
Midorima refused to believe it. This couldn’t be happening to him, couldn’t be happening to Takao. Holding the report with shaking hands, he went over it one more time, his vision blurring with tears and nose clogging with the scent of hospital antiseptic.  
“I will find the person who stole your hawk eyes from you, Kazunari, and I will make them pay,” Midorima vowed to the boy lying in the hospital bed, blissfully unconscious.  
Patient has been rendering blind by said accident.  
\---

“You’re my star, Shin-chan.” Takao sighed, nuzzling into his lovers warm chest. They were both laying down in the middle of a local park. It was the middle of the night, so shadows were played out around them, the warm are not allowing a frost to set it the otherwise chilly night. For the first time in months, the brisk September night was clear, the constellations bright and twinkling. Underneath the starlight, the two boys were wrapped around each other, feeding off their warm pocket of air they created with their bodies.  
“You bakka. Why do people say I’m the sappy one?”  
“Because you are.”  
\---  
“We’re going to eat some pineapples now.”  
“....Shin-chan?”  
“For science and sex.”  
“Fine by me.”  
\---  
“Wow, Shin-chan. I didn’t know you played piano. But, isn’t that song a duet?” Takao asked, slinging his arm around the green-haired shoulders.  
Midorima nodded nearly imperceptibly. Takao took a seat beside the taller on the bench, and played the harmony of the same song that Midorima was.  
There they sat, letting the music swell around them, crescendoing to a peak.  
“Stop flirting at school!”  
“No.”  
\---  
“You know, when we started dating, I asked the Generation about what they thought of you, what you were like back in middle school,” Takao reminisced, playing with Midorima’s wrapped fingers. They were both lounging on their couch, their legs intertwined. Takao was curled in his lovers lap, while Midorima was splayed out underneath him.  
“Hm? And what did my lovely companions have to say about me?” Midorima smirked, sarcasm dripping from his words.  
“Kise called you a cuddly teddy bear. I think he was talking about someone else. Certainly not my Shin-chan,” Takao teased, snorting slightly.  
Midorima just bristled wordlessly at the comment.  
“Aomine said you were a hardass, Murasakibara said you nice because you supplied him with sweets, Kuroko was awkward and vague, and Akashi threatened me with scissors.”  
Midorima mused over this a bit.  
“That is an incredibly accurate indicator of all our relationships.”  
“They also all said that they would hunt me down if I hurt you.”  
“My previous statement stands.”  
“Aww!”  
\----  
“Takao?” Midorima’s voice said, surprisingly high.  
“What? It’s too early in the morning, turn the light off,” He mumbled into the pillow. When he rolled over and Midorima’s warmth wasn’t there, he sniffed in disappointment.  
“Look at me. And then look at yourself,” Midorima said calmly, even if his voice was shrill.  
So Takao finally lifted his head up.  
“Shin-chan! You’re a chick!” He said. Wait...wasn’t his own voice higher as well. So he looked down at his chest. Instead of seeing a flat chest, he saw boobs.  
“Well, this is new and weird. Hopefully temporary,” Midorima said. But she got back into bed with Takao.  
“We can either figure it out or have sex. Which do you want to do first?”  
“Ha, you asked me like that was a question where both options had a fair chance.”  
\---  
It was sweet, what Midorima tried to do for him. Really, it was and Takao appreciated it.  
But babying a sick boyfriend was not what he anticipated doing for their anniversary.  
“I just wanted to take you out for sushi. I didn’t know I was allergic,” Midorima explained, curled in the fetal position on their bed. Takao laughed, and rubbing the small of his back.  
“I know not to kick a man when he’s down. You’ll get it where you’re better though,” He said comfortingly.  
“Ugh, I hate being sick!”  
\---  
It was painful, downright painful, to remember his high school years.  
Not everything was bad, midorima allowed grudgingly. There were high test scores, good grades. There was the personal best for points scored in a single game. There was friends-well, no friend, really, but thats when things start to turn sour and Midorima shuts it off.  
Once he starts thinking about good things, he can’t help but remember his face, one that helped him through so much, was still tucked safely into a warm and cozy corner of his mind. But he never lets himself revisit those days, because then coming back is only more painful. After reminiscing of better days and happiness, the closest to perfection he thinks he’ll ever get, returning to stressful classes and overwhelming people that are too damn close and too damn abundant that Midorima thinks about forgetting. Erasing those blissful memories from his mind forever, He knows about the different ways to mentally organize knowledge, with rooms and cabinets that can keep things neat and orderly, disposing of unnecessary things that serve as nothing but clutter. Sometimes, Midorima likes to think that he’ll get up the nerve to move all things related to him from their special place–bedside table, first drawer, always locked–and throw them out, delete them forever. Never have to dwell on that boy ever again, no more wasting days and weeks and minutes and seconds on that ridiculous and tragic moment that could be gone in an instant. Suffering through remembrance might break him, might split him down the middle and destroy the small shred of sanity and self that he has left. Because he...he made him better, made him improve himself. Despite the fact that the sheer mention of Ta...him...could quite possibly bring him to his knees, it is undeniable that the boy changed him for the best.  
Better not to dwell on it at all.


End file.
